


Leave a Light On

by coffeerepublic



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Emotional Sex, F/M, Graphic Description of Resetting a Joint, Injury, Injury Recovery, Pregnant Sex, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmate-Identifying Tattoos, Ten Years of Darkness, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 13:15:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11601402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeerepublic/pseuds/coffeerepublic
Summary: After Prompto comes back from the darkness injured, he and Alathea need to reassure themselves and each other that they are still here.





	Leave a Light On

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a larger Soulmate AU I've been concocting in my head. I cannot promise that you will be seeing any more of it, but this is my favorite part anyways.

Slowly, but surely, Alathea was growing restless. A glance at the clock told her it was past midnight already. Of course, the time of the day did not matter much anymore these days – the sky was not going to get any darker than it was. It had been three years since the sun had not risen one morning. It had never risen since. The daemons had only grown stronger during that time, and no longer were they constricted to the night hours. After all, night was all there was now.

If it was past midnight that meant Prompto had been gone for more than twelve hours now. He had left earlier today to go hunting. He would not have had to go far to encounter daemons, so his long absence was a substantial cause of worry on Alathea’s part. She wished she had gone with him. They had made a great team for the months and years they had spent at each other’s backs out there. But nowadays he refused to let her come with him. It bothered her, but she could hardly fault him for his insistence considering her… predicament.

The floor she was pacing belonged to the small cottage they had moved into together after all the world had gone to hell. It was somewhat remote, but if one were to walk up the hill out back for a little while, one would eventually be able to spot the lights of Hammerhead in the far distance. A testament to the fact that they had not given up hope and were ready to join a fight larger than either of them at a moment’s notice if the day ever came.

Prompto, Gladiolus and Ignis had drifted apart as time went on. Perhaps the hole that Noctis had left behind burned too deeply whenever they were together. Still, Prompto refused to give up hope. He was certain that one day, all they had fought for would come to its conclusion. His belief was so strong it made Alathea believe in it as well.

The minute hand was pointing straight upwards once more and she was still alone. She knew she would not be able to find sleep until he had returned. Once, he had been gone for two and a half days. Thus, she had been awake for just as long, her consciousness wavering after so many hours had passed, but never quite allowing her to find rest. It made sense, she thought, unintentionally reaching up and running a fingertip along the thin black line circling around her neck. As long as she was unable to sleep, it meant he was wide awake somewhere out there. She held onto that source of hope as tightly as she could.

Then, a sound outside. Her ears perked up and… yes! There were footsteps outside, quiet and distant at first, then suddenly louder on the wooden porch. Alathea was overwhelmed by how glad she felt. She rushed to open the door and threw herself into her lover’s arms, digging her nose into the side of his neck. The sudden calmness that washed over her when holding him twisted back into concern when he winced in her embrace.

She stepped back and took a good look at him. He was standing upright, that much was the good news. But on a closer look, he seemed a little… asymmetrical. His right arm was hanging straight downward, the angle of his shoulder less pronounced than on the other side. His bare arms were covered in dirt and cuts, the bruises forming on his skin too numerous to count, especially without a proper light source.

“Thea,” he said softly, his exhaustion tangible. He seemed too weak to say anything more than that.

Alathea’s eyes widened in worry. “Prompto, you… I…” She swallowed and took a moment to get her thoughts in order. “You’re hurt. Quick, come inside and lie down. I’ll patch you up.”

He nodded gratefully and slowly stumbled past her into the cabin, softly brushing his uninjured arm against her own in passing. As if he were apologizing for being too weak to greet her properly. Something tightened inside her chest at the reminder of how profoundly good he was, both in general and in his treatment of her specifically. Even now, when he was so clearly the one who needed tending to far more than she did.

She followed him inside and urged him to lie down on their shared bed. He inhaled sharply when his back and thus his shoulder hit the mattress, breaths slowly calming as he waited for her to return to his side. She did as soon as she had collected the medical supplies they kept in one of the cabinets. They had done this for each other too many times over the years.

He was watching her every movement as she sat everything down on the nightstand.

“Do you have any cuts that need to be sewn up, or is your shoulder the first thing that has to be taken care of?” she asked, eyes running over his body in evaluation, but unable to draw any final conclusions while he was still wearing his shirt.

“None of them that bad. Shoulder first.” His voice was exhausted from the pain, but steady.

“Okay. Gotta take your shirt off first though, so that I’ll know what I’m working with.” He winced at her words and their implication and it stung her heart. “I’m sorry. I know you’re in a lot of pain. Let me help you.”

Slowly, as carefully as she could, she helped him out of his black top. Before, she had already been able to see part of the bruising on his shoulder. Now, it was obvious that the hematoma went further, across his collarbone until it faded out near his sternum. She almost went ahead and ran her fingers over the battered skin, but caught herself just in time and held back with her fingertips hovering only millimeters above him.

“Your collarbone’s bruised, but it doesn’t look broken. Neither does your upper arm. The shoulder’s definitely dislocated, though,” she informed him.

“Thought so,” he breathed. “Think you can reset it?”

She considered for a moment. While she had never done it to another person, she had had her own shoulder reduced before. It had been a long while since then, but it was not like there was much of a choice. She nodded.

Alathea had Prompto advance to the side until his arm was splayed from his body perpendicularly. She took his arm in both of her hands. He tried to wrap his hand around her own lower arm to help, but had to forfeit his intention due to the reduced mobility in his muscles. Then, she set her sock-clad foot against the side of his ribcage, careful to choose an area with as few bruises as possible. A ridiculous, yet necessary position.

“This is probably gonna hurt a lot. I’m sorry, love.”

All he did was nod, the urgency to find relief visible in his movements. Unable to watch his face while she was causing him pain, Alathea squeezed her eyes shut tightly and then began to pull. She kept her strength as steady as she could, pulling hard enough to make her own muscles protest.

Then, there was a sickening sound that mixed with Prompto’s loud and pained groan.

She let go of his limb carefully, sitting down on the bed softly and putting a hand on his face, caressing his cheek with her thumb while he slowly calmed back down. Soon, his breathing slowed again. He reached up with his uninjured hand to cover hers.

“Thank you,” he whispered and then pressed a kiss to her wrist.

“Are you ready for a potion to numb the pain and heal those cuts a little?” she asked instead of telling him he was welcome. It seemed out of place to say something like that when she had caused him pain, even if it had been for the greater good.

“Please,” he answered. He did not have to ask twice. Alathea helped him prop up his head while she held the vial to his lips, watching his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed the liquid.

Afterwards, they simply stayed like that for a while. The cuts littering Prompto’s chest were scabbing and turning into red welts. Still visible, but far less crass to look at already. Nonetheless, she felt a heaviness in her heart as she ran her fingers along the ones less likely to scar lest she hurt him. If she had been out there with him, perhaps he would not have been injured as badly. Then again, he might also have been distracted by his need to protect her and things might have turned out even worse.

If any possible choice was the wrong choice, maybe it was simply the world that was wrong.

Eventually, she reached into the bag with medical supplies, grateful that she had not had to sew him up. She pulled out an ointment and unscrewed the tin, beginning to spread the salve on every single cut she saw. There were many, interspersed with lighter pink and white lines where old wounds had left marks. He did not need any more scars. They were both covered in them already.

“I wish you did not have to put yourself into danger like this,” she mumbled.

“If I didn’t, we’d have no money to live off. And every daemon I kill is one less out there to harm some innocent person.” Noble as ever.

“I know. I understand. I just wish it didn’t have to be like this.” Alathea closed the tin again and put it back with the other supplies. She pulled her legs onto the bed, sitting sideways so their hips were touching. She needed the contact to reassure herself that he was still here. That was also why she could not stop running her fingertips over his skin.

“You know that I’d never not come back to you.” He was right. She did know. Being apart hurt him as much as it hurt her.

“Not at long as it’s your choice. But whenever you’re out there, I can’t help but spend every second worrying about what might go wrong. You know I have a vivid imagination.”

He reached out with his good hand, lovingly squeezing her hand and then moving up across her elbow, over her shoulder, until he had reached her neck. Softly, he pushed two fingertips against the slim, black line of ink that ran across her pulse.

“If anything like that happened, you would know,” he reminded her. Once again, he was right.

She took his hand in both of hers, pulling off his fingerless glove and pressing a kiss to the inside of his palm. Then, she pushed her cheek into it, enjoying the sensation of the callouses from his firearms against her softer skin.

He moved to skip his fingertips along her lips. “Come here,” he whispered, encouraging her to turn her head and lean down towards him.

She went along with it, as usual unable to resist him. Their breaths were mixing, his respiration still more labored than hers. She attributed it to his body needing the energy to translate the potion into actual healing. Their eyes met. His pupils were dilated, deep pools of warm darkness pulling her in. His mouth ghosted over hers, the softness of the touch reaching inside her and pulling her against him magnetically. For the first few seconds, she did not respond to his kiss, pliable like putty against his motions.

Then, she felt herself slipping and responded, welcoming his tongue into her mouth. No matter how many times she had kissed him – and it must have been thousands and thousands of times after all these years – it always felt like the first time. All the nerves in her lips and tongue were on fire in the best of ways as he licked into her mouth, coaxing a reaction from her to every one of his actions.

Lost in their passionate kissing, she let Prompto pull her on top of him, movements a little awkward with his one arm still splayed across the bed and not yet ready to be used again. She held his face in both hands, running her fingers through his hair, reassuring herself that he was here with her and no longer out there at risk of being killed at any moment. His presence was grounding her, and she let all the intensity with which she had been fearing for him flow into their touches.

The hardness pressing into her from below was impossible to mistake for anything but what it was. Breaking away from her lips for a moment, Prompto exhaled harshly. “Thea, I need you,” he breathed, rocking his hips up emphatically.

“Prompto,” she answered with worry in her voice. “You’re injured. Are you sure now’s the time?”

“I need you,” he repeated, not the slightest hint of shame detectable in the way he looked up at her. He did not exactly sound demanding, but his need for her was more than apparent.

And if Alathea was honest with herself, she needed him just as badly. Needed to know that he was real, that he was here, that they had each other now and always. As such, she did not question him again.

“We’ll have to be careful with your shoulder,” she noted instead, reaching down and pulling her shirt over her head in one swift movement.

His good hand was on her in an instant, grasping one breast and running his thumb along the flesh that was spilling over the bra. Her cleavage had been the first noticeable change about her body.

“Isn’t it too tight?” he wondered, squeezing the flesh in his hand carefully.

“Yeah. But it’s the largest bra I own.” Resources were sparse in this dark world. Those resources included both fitting bras and most methods of contraception.

His hand continued its path and found her stomach where a small bump was by now clearly visible. His eyes took the same path as his hand and the expression in them changed into something not entirely unlike reverence.

“You’re radiant,” he thought out loud. It seemed to Alathea that he had not intentionally said it, but did not mind having voiced his appraisal.

She could have said the same thing about him. Even with his injuries, the thing that stood out most about his chest were the myriad of freckles spanning from his neck across his collarbones and further down. His nipples were a soft pink that was perfectly complimented by the redness that had spread across his cheeks and neck.

She could not keep herself from kissing every kind of mark on his skin, diligently trying not to miss a single spot. “Thea,” he whispered in encouragement, sighing and moaning in response to her caresses. 

His abs seemed to vibrate underneath his skin as she went lower. Every kiss against his skin demanded a reaction from his body, and she was ever amazed at how perfect he was from head to toe. It aroused her to know that it was her of all people that could make him respond so wonderfully to each and every touch.

His pale skin became almost translucent in places where his bones pushed against the skin. She could see a small net of veins spanning his hipbone. He was living, and he was beautiful.

She had never taken off his boots in her earlier hurry to treat his injuries.

After they were gone, both his and her pairs of pants and socks soon followed. As did her too-tight bra.

When she mounted him, she had long since been ready. It was simply what he did to her. She rocked herself up and down carefully, supporting her weight with one hand on his chest. Not daring to go any faster lest she hurt his shoulder, Alathea’s gaze caught on Prompto’s. She did not dare look away again. The intensity and adoration in his eyes only underlined the sensation of his cock entering her over and over.

“Prompto,” she whispered, eyes never leaving his, pace slow and steady. “Touch me.”

He reached for her convex stomach at first, a little as if he had to be careful not to forget what it meant.

“You’re perfect,” he said as if he were reminding her of an important fact.

Then, his fingers slipped to that place between her legs and she swore she began to see stars as he rubbed circles against her clit.

She rode him through her own orgasm and further, soon drawing him into the realm of bliss along with her. Only then did she still on top of him, her insides yet squeezing him erratically.

Even now, he was looking up at her as if she were supernatural, as if he had to remind himself again and again who she was, what she was, what they were.

“Thank you,” he whispered, exhausted and content. Alathea was glad to have been able to provide what he had needed. What they had both needed.

She sat back a little and moved the hand she had been holding herself up with from his chest to his upper arm – the injured one. She ran her fingers along the tattoo there. The one he had always been covering up with a piece of cloth when he had been younger. When they had not yet found each other.

“I love you,” she emphasized, a verbal declaration joining the nonverbal one.

He mirrored the gesture, once more touching her neck softly, feeling her pulse jumping underneath his fingertips.

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all reviews are much appreciated! ♥


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